


do i wanna know

by markothy



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Bad Decisions, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Just Bear With Me, M/M, Slow Burn, lapslock, maybe? - Freeform, the rating will Probably go up eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markothy/pseuds/markothy
Summary: rook shifts in the driver’s seat, contemplating whether he wants to deal with this or not, whether he wants to rise to meet john’s loaded words tonight or leave them to die out like embers in a breeze. it takes him a moment to consider - he could just turn the radio off and finish his patrol like a good, responsible figure of minor authority. but, then again, as the junior deputy, rook has a tendency to get himself into awful, and most often preventable, situations for the good of the county. if john seed is involved, well, that’s just happenstance.





	do i wanna know

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know the title is garbage

“not so busy tonight, are you, deputy?” john seed teases, honeyed voice crackling to life through the radio rook had tossed carelessly into the passenger seat. tonight, it comes with seemingly less bite than one would expect from the ruthless herald. rook doesn’t miss it either - it’s john-speak, a staged question leading up to a subtle invitation, so the deputy waits. john continues, probing further with, “thought the resistance didn’t give their big, bad hero days off.”

  
rook shifts in the driver’s seat, contemplating whether he wants to deal with this or not, whether he wants to rise to meet john’s loaded words tonight or leave them to die out like embers in a breeze. it takes him a moment to consider - he could just turn the radio off and finish his patrol like a good, responsible figure of minor authority. but, then again, as the junior deputy, rook has a tendency to get himself into awful, and most often preventable, situations for the good of the county. if john seed is involved, well, that’s just happenstance. so he sighs, a little breathier than he’d like to admit, and grabs for the radio.

  
“you bored, john?” rook replies, grins because he knows he’ll have a response as soon as he takes his thumb off the button. the chances of john calling for just a friendly, christian chat were next to none, so the deputy decides to throw his own chips into the game. “missing all the attention i could be giving you?”

  
instead of a snappy comeback from the herald like rook’s expecting, he only hears a frustrated snort of laughter from john. “and there’s pride,” he says, like he’d been waiting to say it. “‘we’ll have to pluck that thorn from your soul later, won’t we, deputy?”

  
“only if i can yank the lust out of yours.”

  
static silence fills the cab of rook’s pick-up, and then, “i know you’re on patrol just past the rail yard. you’re here in 10, or i send people to get you.”

  
“a little forceful for a booty call, don’t you think?”

  
“that’s your choice, deputy.”

  
rook sighs, “leave the back door unlocked,” and chucks the radio somewhere into the back seat.

  
he makes it there in 5.

  
†

  
rook opens his eyes and is immediately blinded by the late morning light reflecting off the whitetails. rubbing at his bleary eyes, he stretches, cracking every sleepy joint in his body as he takes in the surroundings. when his body stirs, he’s made painfully aware of every new bruise and dried, bloody mark littering his skin as they scream under the friction of the sheets. the other side of the bed is empty, _john’s side_ , his brain provides, but still messy and relatively warm.

  
right. he had caved last night, feeling particularly peckish for some bad decision-making, so when the radio came crackling to life from the passenger side with john seed’s honeyed voice and all his subtle string-alongs, the deputy felt inclined to indulge the man. turned the dial up, even. which is leagues more than rook would give him any other day. he’d call it a thirst trap, set and sprung, if he knew john didn’t need it much, much more.

  
rook sits up, ignoring his aching body, like he can’t help but feel astonished as he realizes the depth of his current situation.

  
this is _new_.

  
not the concept of sleeping with john seed, one of joseph’s sibling heralds that he’s sworn to stop, no - rook had already accepted the difficulties and _extracurriculars_ that come with this violent, manipulative, and wholly obnoxious little man. though, in the deputy’s defense, he’s still _doing his job_ \- the man can’t carve sins into people if he’s busy being pinned to the bed, receiving the fucking of his life. plus, it’s how he got deputy hudson back. a more diplomatic approach, he had explained, to which a keeled over sharky replied with “you mean _dick_ -lomatic,” between howls of laughter and a nauseated grimace from jess. no, this certainly isn’t the first time waking up like this, and rook can safely say that this won’t be the last.

  
no, what’s _new_ is waking up with john already up and going, because it’s _morning_ , and rook’s never, _ever_ stayed ‘til the morning. sure, he’s stupid for letting his dick open this proverbial can of worms that is his relationship with john, but he’s made sure he’s careful about it. waking up to a knife in the throat would do the resistance no good, and the folks at fall’s end have made their opinion on the matter very, _very_ clear.

  
the sound of running water seeps into the room through the bathroom door and gives away john’s proximity. the water just started, so rook knows he needs to make for an exit as soon as possible. he hates the way his body refuses to move, like it’s begging him to stay. his nerves and responsibilities get the best of him, though, because he’s not about to expect john to saunter out of the bathroom, towel neatly tied around his waist, with a suggestion about brunch. the deputy rises from the comforting cling of sheets and starts gathering his clothes, which are neatly folded on a nearby dresser when he swears he remembers tossing them to kingdom come the previous night as he focused on tearing john out of his. rook decides to think about that later, since he’s tugging his boots on and slipping out through a window that opens with a warped squeal. once rook reaches the tree line, he’s back to being the junior deputy with a shrug of his uniform jacket.

  
back to acting like none of this had ever happened.

  
†

  
“you know this can’t become a habit, rook.” jess says flatly from her seat across the table, fiddling the plastic straw of her drink between cautious fingers. sharky and hurk, already far along in their plan to get shitfaced, enthusiastically voice their agreements.

  
rook blinks, trying his best to act oblivious. “habit? what could you possibly be referring to?”

  
jess makes a noise, irritation rippling across her face as she sets her jaw and purses her lips. the huntress visibly retreats back into her hood, and the action has an uncanny likeness to the cranky snapping turtles rook remembers messing with as a kid.

  
“don’t say it’s nothing, rook, we know you.” sharky pats the deputy’s shoulder in a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the huntress’ reaction. “‘sides, your story is pretty hard to believe when you come back from john’s territory with your clothes looking _cleaner_ than when you went in.”

  
“my cousin’s right,” hurk says from beside him, squishing rook deeper into the booth when he drapes an arm over the deputy’s shoulder. “i’ve seen your place, rook, and no judgement here, but _you_ ain't the laundry-doing type.”

  
“hey, i can do my own laundry!” rook objects. “just haven’t had the time, i guess.”

  
“too busy fucking and not fighting,” jess snorts, scarred face reappearing from beneath her hood with a smirk to take a sip of her drink. the huntress’ venomous clapback sends the boys howling, table threatening upheaval under their knee slaps and thundering feet. rook, fearing further persecution, pleads the fifth with his ears tinged a perilous pink.

  
with a side glance, rook sees mary may abandon her usual spot behind the bar and make her way over to their corner table. he curses, because _nothing_ escapes that woman, not in _her_ fine establishment. immediately, he knows the game is up, knows he’s in for it.

  
“is this about that seed boy?” she asks, loud enough for the rest of the spread eagle to hear. “and the dirty business he’s been getting up to with our very own?”

  
no, no, _no_ \- rook is _not_ going to discuss his bad decisions in the middle of the spread eagle, which, of course, has to be fuller tonight than he’s ever seen it before. they can’t make him. he vaults over hurk and makes a move for the exit, but mary may meets him before he can escape.

  
“not so fucking fast, deputy,” mary may jabs a pointed finger into his chest, her drawl sounding more like a growl. “ _sit_.”

  
sharky, somehow still following the conversation, stage whispers to jess and hurk. something about where the real power resides in hope county, in fall’s end. whatever it was, his point is made, because when hurk makes more room on the booth bench, rook, very obediently, does as he’s told.

  
“good. we don’t have to talk about this now, rook, but you’ve gotta listen,” the tired bartender starts, pulling up a chair from an adjacent table. “i know you think you’ve got this under control, this little secret you’ve got with john, but do you _really_?”

  
he has to laugh, because of course he doesn’t. it’s been six months since he’s taken the job as junior deputy for this county, and he’s spent about four of them falling into john’s bed, fucking the man exactly how he demands, and waking up with the battle scars - hickies, teeth marks, and all - to prove it. fuck, john even carved his name into rook’s neck, a souvenir the deputy couldn’t even hope of hiding from his fellow resistance members, and he _still_ went back for a _next time_.

  
rook opens his mouth, searching for a substantial, hilariously rook thing to say, something that’ll leave the rest of them laughing, easing their attention away from him, but he can’t find anything. miserably, he falls silent and avoids her eyes.

  
the all-knowing bartender seems to get it, fortunately, because she scoots her chair back with a sigh, getting up to return to her spot. but before she leaves, there’s two small, firm hands reaching for rook’s shoulders as she forces him to look at her properly. “if anything, think about what this relationship means to you, if it’s a relationship at all.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was cleaning out my drafts and found this, decided to clean it up a bit.. this feels like series material, so i'd really appreciate yall letting me know if i should write more to this
> 
> my twitter is [here](https://twitter.com/shiiningfive) and my curiouscat is [here](https://curiouscat.me/shiiningfive)! also, my new tumblr is [here](https://rookseed.tumblr.com/), so please, _please_ feel free to yell about the seeds and fc5 with me!


End file.
